


Quiet Little Voices

by redstaronmyshoulder (CaptainAmelia22)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 02:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7148981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/redstaronmyshoulder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a text. Ends with a text.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Little Voices

**Author's Note:**

> Again, music helps me get in the mood with these guys. Listened to the Rock Me Up! playlist on Spotify today and for some reason it just felt very Bucky. And I couldn't stop myself. 
> 
> Love always
> 
> -M

He was up at 3 for some reason.

Maybe it was because his brain couldn’t turn off. Maybe it was because he was still on Germany time. Maybe it was something else. 

_Bzzzz_

He sighed and rolled over in his bed, reaching for the phone glowing on his bedside table. 

 _Something else, then,_  he thought as he unlocked the LED screen and swiped his thumb to open the message. 

_Did I tear ur wings off in DC?_

He blinked at the message for a moment, his brain lurching into full wakefulness as it tried to process the typed words; the number was unknown-blocked-but he knew who this was. 

HIs thumbs trembled lightly as he typed, _Yeah man. That was me. It’s not a problem though. I survived. What are you doing up?_

He didn’t ask about the tank.

Didn’t ask about T’Challa.

Or Steve, who he was sure might be in Wakanda again, this time with Wanda and Nat backing him up. 

Anything to get Barnes’ brain set to rights, right?

The phone buzzed lightly in his palm, screen once more glowing and he settled back in the pillows of his bed, ready for a long go of it. 

_Nihutmarex._

Sam’s brow furrowed at the typo-at the meaning behind the word he knew Barnes had meant to type.

He got it. 

It happened to all of them. 

_Did you talk to T’Challa or Steve about it? Maybe try Wanda. She might be able to help you out too._

He waited, phone clutched a little too tight in his hand and he almost jumped when the phone buzzed again after a very long moment of silence; it had taken Barnes so long to respond he had to unlock the device again, grumbling as he swiped the pattern a little too fast and fumbled through the pattern.

_Just wan 2 talk about things-not brain. Not steve. or Natalia._

Natalia.

“Right,” Sam muttered and finally he pressed the phone symbol at the top right of the text screen. 

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, bracing for the voicemail.

But then there was a click and a soft breath. 

“ _Hey.”_

Bucky Barnes’ voice was soft, that Brooklyn accent a little thick tonight and Sam couldn’t help smiling. 

“Hey man, you okay over there?” he asked, propping the phone between his ear and his shoulder and folding his free arm behind his head; he closed his eyes, for now, content to just listen to the other man’s easy breaths. 

A soft laugh and the phone crackled with feedback, making Sam think Barnes was settling down somewhere as well. He smiled and scratched absently at the back of his head.

“Stupid question, huh?” he muttered and Barnes snorted. 

“ _Bad question to ask all of us, I think, Wilson,”_ the other man said and he sighed. “ _What time is it over there? Didn’t even think to ask…”_

Sam shrugged. “Don’t worry about it man. I was up anyway,” he lied, trying to avoid eye-contact with his clock. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

Another heavy pause. “ _Anything that isn’t what’s happened,”_  he said quietly and Sam tried to ignore the desperation he could hear in the other man’s voice.

“Hmm,” he said, eyes drifting over his room. He’d moved back to D.C. after everything had happened with the Accords and the Avengers; his new apartment was nice, if a little bland yet. Not much to talk about there. 

Except…

“My sister had her baby a week ago,” he said, smiling when his eyes landed on the photo he’d set up on his bureau; the little boy was tiny, with dark eyes and a headful of fuzzy curls. “Cutest kid. Our parents are already spoiling him.”

A huffed laugh filled his ear and another crackle fed back to him. “ _How many years between your sister?”_  he asked, voice once more easy and his breaths soft. 

Sam smiled. “Five years. I’m the oldest. She’s a pain in my ass but I’d do anything for her, including diaper duty.” 

“ _Does she live in D.C. too?”_ Barnes asked, his voice was getting a little slow now, his breaths more even and Sam could feel his own body syncing with the other man’s. 

“Mmm, yeah, Virginia actually. About 45 minutes away from the city,” he said; his eyes were getting heavy. “That’s a good distance for us. Just close enough that if she needs help moving a couch, I’m there but just far enough too that if I piss her off I can hide away fro a while.” He snorted and shook his head. “She’s a power-house.”

“ _She’s related to you, doesn’t surprise me,”_ Barnes murmured. “ _I’d like to meet her one day…”_

Sam froze, eyes flying open and his breath locked in his chest. 

The thought…

The thought of Sarah meeting James Buchanan Barnes…

Ex-Assassin. Brainwashed agent of the USSR and Hydra…

“She’d love you,” he said before he could stop himself. 

Silence met his words and he checked his phone briefly to see if it had maybe died or if Barnes had hung up.

And then a soft rumbling breath met his ear and he relaxed.

“Night Barnes,” he said, pressing his thumb into the red button glowing on the screen. “Sleep well.” 

He passed out a moment later, the phone cradled in his palm, battery mostly dead and his lips curl into a smile. 

**

It became a thing, once or twice a week, with Barnes waking him up with a barely coherent text (Sam found out he’s a leftie one night, when he ragged him about the typos, and that he really sucks at doing things with his right hand-except for fighting, which Sam knows all too well) and then they would end up talking for an hour or two.

It became a thing.

And soon it was a thing Sam looked forward to every week. 

 _Wanna talk 2nite?_  Barnes asked one day, about a month into their phone tag. 

Sam was at his sister’s, playing with the baby and listening to her berate him about not getting out enough and dating anymore. 

She didn’t know about the people he was seeing these days. 

Didn’t need to know that he and Captain America were very much still active, taking out criminals and trying to keep the world safe one less bomb maker and would-be supervillain at a time.

Sarah didn’t need to know. 

He shifted the baby in his arms when his phone buzzed his back pocket and frowned at the message; Barnes was up early (well, late for Wakanda) and he handed his nephew off to his sister. 

“Gotta take this,” he muttered, ignoring her _Oooh, is it a girl?! Are you seeing someone Sammy?_

That was a whole can of worms…

 _Sure,_ he typed, blinking as he stepped into the backyard and evening sunlight. _Everything okay?_

The phone went dark, locking itself and his heart was lurching in his chest, his palms starting to sweat as he considered texting Steve or Nat or maybe T’Challa, to make sure everything was all right. 

That…

That nothing had happened.

_Bzzzz._

He almost sagged in relief when the phone vibrated and he had to do the pattern three times before he finally got the screen unlocked. 

_who was riley?_

His heart froze.

They’d never…

He’d never brought Riley up in their conversations; he’d tried to keep things light. Tried to keep things trigger-free.

And besides, he liked listening to Barnes talk more than he liked hearing himself talk.

They’d spent an hour discussing rock music last night; Barnes had a thing for metal and punk. Which shouldn’t have surprised Sam, but definitely made him laugh. 

He’d sent him a couple Black Keys songs just this morning. 

His hands were shaking when he sagged into the battered porch swing, chains creaking as the old wood accepted his weight. 

 _Riley was my partner,_  he typed, _lost him in the war. How’d you find out?_

The phone vibrated almost immediately.

_steve. im sry. u ok?_

Sam choked out a laugh at that. It was fucking ridiculous, James Buchanan Barnes asking him if he was okay. 

Because he was, that was the stupid thing.

He was, because he was talking to Barnes once or twice a week and they’d spent the night before talking about rock and roll and Shinedown. 

_Yeah man, I’m good. Talk to you tonight, okay?_

_k. tell sarah hi_

He shook his head and tucked his phone away. 

There was no way he was telling his baby sister about _any_ of this.

Not yet anyway. 

**

“ _I liked those songs you sent me.”_

Sam smiled and popped another handful of cereal in his mouth; Captain Crunch made his teeth hurt but on their nights talking he found he liked to have something sweet to munch on. And candy just didn’t seem like the right move a grown man should take.

So Captain Crunch it was. 

“Getting pretty desperate for good music over there, Jim?” he asked. He had his phone propped up on a pillow beside his hip and he could see Barnes roll his eyes at the name. 

He’d started calling him things other than James, Barnes or Bucky, anything to get a rise out of him and so far it had worked. 

As long as he got a smirk and a laugh out of Barnes, he considered it a victory. 

“ _Not Jim,”_  Barnes said, wincing as he tightened his hold on the rubber ball he was holding. “ _One of my teachers used to call me that and I hated it.”_

Sam grinned and popped another handful of cereal in his mouth. “Jamie?”

Barnes snorted. “ _Why can’t you call me James or Barnes? Everyone else does.”_

Sam shook his head. “Nat calls you James and it’s weird, okay? And Steve has full rights to the Bucky thing-complete with wistful eyes and outstretched hand. Barnes is too clinical. So Jim or Jamie it is, man. Unless you prefer Buchanan.”

Barnes groaned and flopped back on the stiff mattress of the exam table he was sitting in, holding the phone up so Sam could get a full look of his face and bared chest. 

The scars were grainy in the phone screen but Sam could tell Barnes looked good. They’d taken the last of the metal out-it had been a tricky surgery that had had Steve and Nat out in Wakanda for days and the recovery process had been brutal.

Was still brutal. 

He tried to keep from shivering but couldn’t hide it entirely. 

“ _Doesn’t hurt anymore,”_ Barnes said, sharp eyes catching the shiver on his screen and Sam flushed. “ _T’Challa says that in a month my body will be ready for the restructuring and a new arm.”_ He sighed and rolled his shoulder gently, wincing only a little bit. “ _Can’t wait. I hate texting you with my right hand.”_

Sam grinned. “Oh is that the only reason why you’re ready for your new shiny arm?” he asked. “So you can text me? I’m touched Jamie.” 

Barnes laughed. “ _Oh shuddup, Wilson. You know what I mean.”_

They fell into a companionable silence then, Barnes continuing his hand exercises-the phone propped against his thighs so Sam could get a full view of the man’s flat stomach and scarred pecs-and Sam munching his late-night/early-morning breakfast. 

It had been a month of this, just the two of them chatting and poking fun at each other. 

It had been a month.

And he liked this too much. 

“I haven’t done this with someone else since I was in the Army,” he blurted, the Crunch tasting sour on his tongue. Barnes jumped at his words, sitting up and moving the camera so it rested on his folded thigh. He leaned over the phone, cradling his chin in his hand and his light eyes narrowed in concern as he watched Sam’s face on his screen. 

Sam laughed bitterly and curled up in a little ball around the phone, adjusting it so he could see Barnes’ face. 

“Riley and I used to stay up and talk like this during our tours,” he said, his voice rough. “When we went on leave-him to Louisiana, me to Virginia-we’d call each other and talk at night when our families went to bed.”

Barnes was quiet for a moment, processing Sam’s words. “ _Were you two together?”_ he asked.

And Sam snorted. 

The irony of an American legend and ex-assassin asking him about his sex life wasn’t lost on him.

“In a lot of ways we were,” he said when the silence had stretched on too long and Barnes was starting to look concerned. “He was my wingman and my best friend. And I lost him.”

Barnes nodded. “ _Yeah, yeah I know how that feels Wilson,”_ he said quietly. And he smiled. 

Sam’s breath caught in his chest; James Buchanan Barnes smiling was a rare thing.

He’d only seen the man smile in Smithsonian reels and at Natasha or Steve.

But those smiles had been small.

And bittersweet.

This smile was bright.

Gentle. 

It lightened his eyes to a soft grey and brought dimples out in his cheeks.

“ _Glad I have you as a partner, Sammy,”_  he said and the nickname.

The nickname broke Sam Wilson. 

“Same, Jamie,” he said, grinning back at the other man, some of his heartache fading as they settled back into their respective beds and Sam prepared to go back to sleep. “Good talk man.”

“ _Yeah. Get some sleep.”_

_**_

He went to Wakanda when they got ready to build the arm. 

Barnes asked him to come and T’Challa agreed after only a bit of persuading from Steve. 

“How’s he doing?” he asked Natasha when she came by to pick him up. She was sprawled in his bed, munching away at his Captain Crunch and she shrugged. 

“Nervous. Excited. I think he’s ready to get out of that medbay,” she said through a mouthful of sugar. 

Sam nodded and tossed a clean pair of jeans in his bag. “He’s going to be stuck there for a while though, once they get that arm figured out. T’Challa and Steve have told him that, right?”

She shrugs again. “Might not be as long as you think, Sam,” she said, that sly grin he’d learned to fear curling her lips. “Plus he’s just ready to see you again, I think.”

“Oh,” Sam said weakly, fingers stilling their agitated fiddling with the zipper on his bag. “I’m-I’m ready to see him again too, I think. In person.” 

She sighed and rolled off the bed, squeezing his shoulder as she walked past him. “He’s a good man, Sam. He’s just like the rest of us.”

“Yeah?” he asked and she hesitated, glancing at him over her shoulder before shrugging once more. 

“Yeah, he is. He’s just a little bit broken and scared about it.”

The door closed gently behind her and he listened to her footsteps as she made her way through his place and out the front door, trying to not think about her words too much. 

_I’m as broken as James Barnes. Yeah._

_Getting ready to leave D.C. now,_  he typed as he followed Natasha from his place and out onto the street. _See you soon Jamie._

_Bzzzz_

_c u soon Sammy :)_

_**_

Barnes had a nightmare three nights after his initial surgery. 

Sam snapped awake to the sounds of choked screams and broken Russian; he rushed from his cot to the hospital bed without even thinking twice about it and grabbed Barnes’ wrist and pressed his hand firmly into the man’s thrashing thigh. 

“Easy, easy,” he said, voice raspy with sleep. Barnes shook, screams withering into whimpers; his eyes don’t open, rolling wildly beneath the eyelids and Sam grits his teeth, body straining to keep the other man’s still.

They hadn’t been sure if he’d wake up. The arm…

The damage his fall had wrought on his body in 1945 had been catastrophic. 

And the resulting years of the arm’s general wear and tear had run him through the gauntlet. 

T’Challa’s surgeons had placed him in a heavily medicated state that had resulted in a coma. But even then…

They had been forced to stop and wait, to see how his body would react to the vibranium structuring they’d placed in his chest and shoulder socket. 

Sam hadn’t understood any of it and he had had to work hard at keeping Steve calm; luckily he’d had Natasha to back him up. Otherwise they would have had another Berlin on their hands. 

“Easy, Barnes,” he was saying that night, Barnes’ unbelievably strong body straining against his grip. “You’re safe.”

“No, no please,” Barnes whimpered, eyes flying open. His pupils were blown-unseeing-Sam went cold at the implications that might have and wondered if he should try to wake the compound’s medical staff.

Or T’Challa. 

“Pozhaluysta, ne delayte mne bol'no!”

Sam didn’t know Russian. 

But he _did_ know desperation.

“Okay Jamie, okay,” he murmured letting go of the man’s wrist and lowering one of the bed’s railings so he could climb into the hospital bed with Barnes. “It’s going to be okay, I’m here.” 

He gathered the man in his arms, curling around him and tucking his head under his chin, Barnes’ ear placed directly over his heart. 

“We’re good, it’s all good. You’re safe.”

Tears slid from Barnes’ eyes, his body finally starting to settle after a long, long moment and Sam breathed a sigh of relief, one hand running through Barnes’ short hair in a soothing pattern. 

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” he whispered, ducking his head down to place a soft kiss on his head. “I got you man.”

Barnes’ chest rumbled as he took a deep breath and exhaled in a watery sigh.

HIs arm moved to drape Sam’s hips and Sam jumped when he was pulled tight into Barnes’ chest. 

“Thank you, Sammy,” Barnes whispered, his voice ragged with tears and his fear, now faded.

Sam smiled and pressed another kiss to his head.

“No problem, Jamie. I got your back.” 

A soft snore met his words and he sighed, eyes locked on the heart monitor placed just to the side of the bed; for the long rest of the night the sight and feel of James Barnes’ heart beating steadily against his was his only companion. 

And it felt good.

Better than good, even.

Yeah

**

_Look! No typos!_

_I’m sitting a foot away from you Barnes. Stop showing off._

_You’re just jealous because I have an awesome new arm. Hey look! I even did an apostrophe!_

_Pretty sure that was autocorrect._

_“_ Are you two texting each other even though you’re sitting right next to each other? Sam, that’s so stupid.”

Sam jumped and blushed, lowering his phone so he could see his sister glaring at them, her arms folded over her chest. 

Barnes snorted and grinned, typing even faster on his phone. 

_Bzzzz._

_“_ That’s it!” Sarah exclaimed when Sam’s phone trembled on the dining room table and before he could stop her she reached over and snatched Barnes’ phone out of his hand and confiscated Sam’s as well. “New rule. No phones at the table. Christ, you two are worse than horny teenagers still trying to figure out how to ask the other out.” 

She grinned and Sam-still trying to process the fact that his baby sister had basically assaulted the Winter Soldier and had ultimately survived-choked out a laugh. 

“We don’t-I’m not- _he’s_ not-” he sputtered and Sarah cocked an eyebrow at him before filling Barnes’ glass with more sweet tea and placing their phones back beside their plates with a warning glare. 

Barnes was grinning at him, his eyes sparkling with a humor Sam still wasn’t used to seeing. His hair-still short from his surgery-was rumpled from the afternoon nap they’d taken when they’d finally gotten stateside that morning. Sam tried to ignore the desire to run his fingers through it. 

“So how’d you two meet?” Sarah asked and he bit back a groan as Barnes grinned and turned back to her. 

“Oh, we actually met in D.C.,” he said sweetly, eyeing Sam from the corner of his eye. “Yeah, right in downtown. On a bridge. Super sexy.”

“Really?!” she said, eyes wide and he kicked Barnes’ hard-in the shin. 

“Yeah, the second time I grounded him though,” he said and Sam actually groaned at that, rolling his eyes as he sought to keep from laughing out loud. 

He grabbed his phone and before Sarah could stop him he typed, “ _I’ll ground your ass tonight, Jim.”_

Barnes was grinning at him, light eyes sparkling with laughter and those damn dimples bracketed his lips. 

 _Bzzzz._  


End file.
